


THE SHADOWS OF 221B

by AdriMmoralesDUH



Series: The Lying Detective Symphony [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Autism, Autism Spectrum, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Protective Greg, Protective Mycroft Holmes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26416852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdriMmoralesDUH/pseuds/AdriMmoralesDUH
Summary: Sherlock has one of his bad days, in which his mind takes control; hurting people he considers important, people he believes is his world. John is Sherlock's point, or is he?.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Series: The Lying Detective Symphony [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920118
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	1. System error

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sgam76](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgam76/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Long Walk Down a Dusty Road](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14621058) by [sgam76](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgam76/pseuds/sgam76). 



> * This is a gift for one of my favorite writers ... Sgam76.  
> look at her works, they are masterful.  
> 1\. This work is set at the beginning of her work called “A Long Walk Down to Dusty Road”, where John still does not receive help.  
> 2\. I consider this job to be self-stimulating, because I've been waiting a long time for a job with the characteristics that I wanted. So I said, "Shit, since nobody does it, I better do it."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have a case. Sherlock feels bad, he is in those moments when everything is too strong and hurts.  
> John is in no mood to put up with an irritated detective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first work. Give him lots of love.

The relationship between the two of them remained distant, it was not like in the old days in which both enjoyed the presence of the other, not anymore; not after the events of Culverton Smith, in which John did not want to be near Sherlock for hurting him again; not after Sherrinford, in which John nearly drowned and thus decided to spend most of his time with his daughter, and not after realizing that he no longer saw Sherlock the way he used to. He no longer saw him with affection in his eyes, he no longer felt the duty to protect him, hell, even he put his hand on him and almost let him die at the hands of a psychopath for the stubborn idea of wanting to punish him. Sometimes John wondered if it was fair the way he behaved, the way he wanted to avoid Sherlock, or if it was too selfish to want to stop having pain in his life.

It had been three weeks since a case appeared on floor 221B. Since then Sherlock was… anxious, he was in his bad days and John didn't have the patience to deal with a grumpy detective, so he and his daughter disappeared from the flat for days.

On the morning of the third week he receives a message, in which Sherlock tells him to return to the apartment because he has news, a case. Upon reaching the flat he realized that the weeks took a great toll, with leaves on the floor, experiments in the kitchen, cups of tea cups of tea on the desk and the coffee table, a wall full of photographs , and a detective who was nowhere to be found. John left Rosie in the Baby Jail and went in search of his former roommate, first he looked in the bathroom, finding nothing he went to the taller man's room, finding him putting on his socks; even from his sitting position on the bed, he could see anxiety vibrating. Sherlock, seeing John cross the threshold of the door, jumped to his feet.

"John! John! A case!" Sherlock yells as he leaves his room and runs into the living room, stopping when he saw Rosie and carrying her in his arms. The baby grabbed the detective's curly locks making him laugh deeply.

John feels a heat wave when observing such a tender scene, at that moment Sherlock goes down the stairs with a cheerful Rosie disappeared on the first floor, then he climbs jumping every two steps without the girl and explains that he gave her to Mrs. Hudson.  
Upon reaching the living room, he disappears again, leaving a bewildered John to later appear with his jacket and shoes already on.  
"What is it? Where are we going?" Finally John asks.

"ZOO" Sherlock is already putting on his coat and heading out the door, pausing on the steps and pulling his phone out of his pocket. _Penguin Area, Penguin, PENGUIN. You have to avoid saying that word, you can't risk being wrong in front of Donovan and The Yard._

On the way to the zoo, the emotion that radiated from Sherlock is almost gone and he even walks, his steps are not so frantic anymore.

John notices, "Are you okay?"

“Excellently well, John, a case! How am I going to be sad with a case? It's been three weeks since Lestrade asked me for help. Three weeks! Apparently the London criminals are on vacation, ”says the taller man, looking down the road and no to John.

As Sherlock babbles, John realizes that there is something wrong behind all this false emotion, which he knows for sure is anxiety speaking.

"Any clues for ...? Sherlock? He wants to know, but realizes that the detective is no longer by his side. He turns around and sees that the young man is squatting next to some flowers observing something.

"Did you find something ?!" John asks from his site.

"Bees!"

 _Bees, of course bees_ , thinks John. Since he moved in with Sherlock he realized that the detective has a fascination for these great insects, his ideas were affirmed on Christmas Day with the Holmes, when Mellie and Siger gave the youngest of their children a family heirloom. John sighs, but he's not angry, just uncomfortable. He wonders why his partner gets so busy looking at bees when he has a case that he has been waiting for days.

Apparently Sherlock had enough and stands up. They keep walking together until they meet at an intersection.

"Where do we have to go?"

"Pinguin Zone ..." Sherlock mutters.

"What?"

"Frozen zone" affirms the highest.

They go to the crime scene where a scowling Greg Lestrade awaits them next to the tapes.

"Why so late?" He says looking at his watch and lifting the tapes.

"Let's say Sherlock got distracted along the way." John responds.

The three men walk to where The Yard is, next to them is a body in a prone position and with a large wound on his leg.

“Male of about 38, he has been here for at least 13 hours. The guard found him today when he was taking his first round. Lestrade explains. "He has been a worker in this place for more than 10 years."

"Name?" Sherlock asks.

“Alfred Miller, do you see the wound on his leg? Bled, that would be the cause of death.”

"Not"

"Not?"

"John, come here"

Lestrade and John look at each other and then at the detective.

"Yeah, a bit bossy again." John mutters loud enough for everyone to hear.

"I heard that." Sherlock interrupts.

"That was the idea, Sherlock." John sighs and leans in next to his roommate looking at the corpse.

Sherlock lifts body's pants and points to the wound. "You see?"

John frowns. "What is it?"

Sherlock groans irritably. "Gloves", he orders, Lestrade sighs and hands him a pair that he immediately puts on.

“It was the new coroner, right? The one who examined the body. Tell him that he is incompetent at his job or rather that he is an idiot ”. Furious, he takes out his magnifying glass and hands it to John, almost hitting him on the spot. "Look!"

"Do not yell."

"Look!" Sherlock waves his hand for emphasis.

"What am I looking at?"

“An embedded needle, John! A needle! Even a 10-year-old can see it. Did you become an idiot overnight?" Sherlock puts away his magnifying glass angrily, jumps to his feet, takes off his gloves and tosses them into a trash can. He walks away strong.

He is angry with himself. He didn't mean to hurt or be so rude to John, but he can't help it, he feels anxious.

Sherlock walks out of the frozen zone, his hands in his pockets to prevent everyone from looking at the little tics he can no longer control. Angry that The Yard is so incompetent, angry at John's ineptitude and most of all, angry with himself. Annoyed with being so anxious for days, he recognizes that sometimes an energy takes over him, an energy that he cannot channel, and that stuns him.

  
_System failure, disability._  
  


It's easy to avoid it on good days, you can usually control your way of being, but today it broke the surface of almost calm, the tension of everything, the stimuli everywhere, it is too much.

Kick a stone. There is a sense of guilt stuck in his chest, he knows that he treated John badly and that he did not deserve it. I yell at John, the man who lost his wife, that he is a single father and to top it off he is friends with a selfish being. It's not that he hasn't done it before, but he doesn't want to do it anymore now that the two of them have been through so much and both are trying to heal their wounds.

Because John matters, because John is the only man who accepted him with all his quirks, his only best friend, far apart from Molly, Mrs. Hudson or Lestrade who was more like a father to him.

Sherlock stops walking. The zoo is behind him. But going back is not an option… and going home is not either. He just sit on a park bench.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on chapter 1 of "A Long Road to the Dusty Road".


	2. Questions without answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg worries, but shuts up... for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I know, but I really need to do it to end the Greg scene, and make way for Sherlock and John.

"Sorry," John says to Greg.

“No, you don't need to apologize. We all know that he tends to throw a tantrum from time to time. Rather, is he on his bad days? "

"Yes, I think so. He was complaining about the volume in London, that expensive clothes have lost their quality simply because they have a bit of seams, he didn't want to eat and he wanted to smoke cigarettes. I had to shut him up once or twice, he was raising his voice and Rosie moved a little." John said simply.

"Umm, I see."

"In any case, he was right," John said, while Greg had a confused face.

"The case, Greg, the leg wound, and yes, there was a little needle."

Greg sighs. "He is always right"

_No_ , thinks John.

"Did something happen between you two?" Greg frowns and waits.

John glances at him and thinks about how Sherlock changed his life for the better and much more for the worse. Think about how Mary had to die for that idiot to learn a little to shut his mouth when he should. On how Rosie was left without a mother. Yet he also remembers the feeling of his stomach dropping as he watched Sherlock preparing to commit suicide in Sherrinford. _Mixed feelings_ , think.

_"John_?"

The shorter man just laughs without grace. “I think a lot Greg, a lot happened between the two of us. I guess I'm done here, right? " He says, then turns around and leaves a worried Greg Lestrade.


	3. John's Symphony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John goes over his life, and tries to see where it all went to hell.

As he walked, he felt a wave of pride that he was the one who left the crime scene, leaving everyone dumbfounded. It's always Sherlock who says what to do or how to do, and John, well, John is just his lap dog. But in other times it was John who gave the orders and the soldiers who respected them no matter what; he was always the one who maintained order and control of the situation.

At the beginning of his relationship with Sherlock it was pleasant, following someone who showed you the way to go was very charming when that person was brilliant. He learned to put up with the peculiar way of being of his new work colleague, obviously he had moments of explosion as in the case of Sebastian Wilkes, when correcting Sherlock saying that the two were just colleagues and not friends, he regretted after seeing Sherlock's face but never apologized. After his near death with Sarah came Moriarty and with him, his other near death in the pool tied to a vest with explosives, resulting in the subtle feeling of protecting Sherlock. After that incident, things calmed down and he learned to love his roommate with all his peculiarities, he knew or rather deduced that Sherlock was different, that he felt things a lot or the world... that he was autistic.

It did not seem necessary to share his deduction with his sensitive friend in pride, although I always take it into account and change his treatment with him, being more subtle in the jokes so that Sherlock understands them, explaining the way people behave or protecting him of idiots.

Time passed, and their relationship was no longer one of simple roommates, or friends or best friends, John learned to love Sherlock like a brother... and then he left, leaving a lonely ex-soldier and about to lose his head over the haze of grief.

He met Mary who brought a certain joy to the moment, which he believed, the darkest of his life. He learned to move on, he got a job, a house and a person who loved him for who he is. He completely blocked the things that reminded him of Sherlock, he walked away from Greg (who was as bad as he was, he even spent several months in suspension until Sherlock's case was cleared), Molly (who was looking for him to help but he refused ), Mrs. Hudson (who suffered as much or worse than he from losing her surrogate son. Knowing that without Sherlock and him her landlady was alone, she decided not to visit her) and of course Mycroft (it seemed that the great man had disappeared from the map, no one knew where he was or what he was doing).

His life took a different course but at least a little calm and cozy, no, not cozy, endurable. He decided to stop wasting time and marry that woman who helped him not lose his mind, she was the one to share the rest of his life. I buy a nice ring, reserve a table in a great restaurant and invite her. Regardless of the return of his then dead best friend, bringing with it endless events.

Wedding, lies, hospitals, apologies, baby on the way, drugs, death, more drugs, baby born, baptism, joy and ... another death; But this time it wasn't funny anymore, not anymore.

The moment after Mary's death was very blurry, he remembers things that scared him, like when he stopped being trustworthy to raise Rosie, punishing Sherlock with the letter that even Molly, such a brave woman, burst into tears when reading it and he, miserable like him, yelled at her forcing her to do something selfish and despotic. After all this, the morgue passed, and even then he did not want to know anything about the friend who was lying in a hospital bed. The video of Mary, Sherlock's near-strangulation, and his near-emotional collapse in the living room of 221B, oh, and they had cake. Eurus, His ex-therapist came along, secret sister Holmes, the one who shot him a tranquilizer dart and the one who chained him to the bottom of a filling shaft. With her, what little sanity he had was gone.

After all that, John stopped trying to be soft with Sherlock, he didn't want to be cruel to him but sometimes he couldn't help it, sometimes he just wanted to punish him. He was tired of being the lap dog of the being that lit up his life in the beginning but then gradually ruined it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter there are many nods to chapter 1 of the work "A Long Walk Down to Dusty Road", written by Sgam76.


	4. Miscalculation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock feels fear, John's anger materializes ... to be or not to be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, we arrived at the moment hurt.

When John leaves the zoo and enters the park, he sees Sherlock sitting staring at the ground with his left hand tangled in his hair and the thumb and index fingers of the right hand rubbing each other.

John stands in front of his partner and feels anger rising from deep within him. Sherlock doesn't look up, but gives a hint that he recognizes his friend's arrival.

John coughs slightly.

"What?" Sherlock asks, his gaze fixed on his feet.

"What was that? In there. "

"Come on, it's not my fault you're stupid." Sherlock mutters in a sad voice.

Anger spreads through his body now, making him clench his teeth, so much so that his jaw aches.

"Maybe you need glasses, you know, it was very obvious there was a needle, even Anderson could see it." Sherlock mutters

John clenches his fists, tenses, his muscles tremble, every piece of him trembles. _Bastard,_ think. _You can't let Sherlock disrespect you in such a way, this reckless dismissive and selfish._ He makes a sound in the back of his throat.

"Don't make noise, please." Sherlock mutters, placing his hands on his ears.

A shiver of anger shakes the body of John, a man who was a captain for much of his life with a battalion of soldiers in his care, lives in his hands, and that none of them dared to contradict him. So now he's definitely not going to let a boy-minded man, who considers himself a genius, disrespect him, much less misunderstand who John Watson is.

Instinctively John's hands shoot out grabbing Sherlock's hands, making him gasp and squeeze them hard. Sherlock looks up, his pale eyes widen in surprise, his cupid lips form a silent _Oh_ , he shudders and tries to cover his face with his hands; it is obvious that he expects to be beaten and seeks protection. But he can't move, John is too strong and he doesn't want to think he would hurt him, he doesn't want to think about defending himself against John, not John, not his only friend.

In a split second, Captain Watson looks directly into the heart of a child and recognizes vulnerability, childlike innocence, fear of being hurt. For a moment he feels like he is crossing the line, for a moment he is dismayed, but even so, he does not soften his grip.

"John, you are hurting me." Sherlock whispers in a very small voice. As if he was afraid to speak up and be punished.

Captain Watson leans toward him. "Don't you dare speak to me like that again, understand?" His voice is low, hoarse, the voice he uses to intimidate bad guys. He still feels anger running through his body, but also a deep tingle.

"John, you're scaring me. Please let me go, "Sherlock pleads.

But John has to stay in his role. He has to make his point clear. He likes the fear and confusion in the eyes of the youngest of men. He wish this respect were common between them.

"John, what are you doing?"

Finally, John releases Sherlock's hands. They have turned red and will be bruised tomorrow. He takes a step back, takes a hard breath, looks at Sherlock with steel eyes, and places his hands clenched at his sides.

Sherlock, it's the opposite, he lowers his gaze, he wants to bring his legs to his chest and hug himself, he wants to avoid folding his hands from the constant pain, he wants to burst into tears. His shoulders start to shake. Seeing this, John's anger dissipates, he is worried and wants to touch him; He extends his hand and is surprised by Sherlock's reaction.

"Are you okay?" He asks softly. His voice soft and calm now.

Sherlock doesn't respond, instead sobbing.

"Are you... crying?" John's legs go weak.

Sherlock looks up, not making eye contact, tears play with falling again. He stands up, brushes his hand across his face, and goes straight to the doctor's side.  
The events cause a pain in John's chest and he silently wonders…

_"what have I done?"_


	5. Sherlock Symphony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A walk through Sherlock's thoughts.

Sherlock forced himself not to cry.

The only good thing he had going for him now was his near normality with John, and now he didn't know if that he has. He tried to think of a reason for John's anger, for his ability to see the worst of him most of the time, but he couldn't find it. He knew that some features of his behavior irritated John now and that is why he tried to modify his way of being, trying to be aware of the social and domestic regime, but sometimes ... he could not stop being himself and the it seemed that his friend did not like that.

He kept walking until he realized that it was already night, he went in search of a market to buy cigarettes and when he looked for his wallet in one of his pockets, he felt his phone vibrate, he decided to take it out and read the twelve text messages, he no longer had anything to lose.

_Sherlock, come home, we need to talk. JW_

_Sherlock, it's already 5:00 p.m, you've been absent for more than three hours. JW_

_Sherlock, I'm sorry, we need to talk. JW_

_Come on Sherlock I'm getting worried. JW_

_Rosie misses you. JW_

_Sherlock is already 6:00 p.m, what time do you plan to return? JW_

_I think I'll stay the night. JW_

_We have to fix this, I know it got out of hand. JW_

_Sherlock, please come back now. JW_

_Sherlock, I'm thinking of calling your brother. JW_

_Sherlock, it's 7:30 p.m already, are you reading me? JW_

_If you don't come back at 8:00 p.m, I swear I'll go find you myself. JW_

That was the last message received, Sherlock did not want to know anything at this time, he had many things to clear in his mind, his wrists hurt and especially his chest from a strange sinking sensation, but most importantly, he had to think about what to do to regain friendship with your beloved army doctor.

_John, John, John…_

His head could only think about the events that occurred in the morning and worst of all, he always believed that he was the culprit. Ever since his return from the dead, he wanted to be brand new or at least give it a try as he knew that he sometimes went overboard hurting the few people who cared about him. Back then, going through strong trauma, anxiety, stress and depression; He thought that John was going to leave him, but surprisingly the former soldier never left his side, on the contrary, helping him unconditionally in his recovery.

He never thought that the one he considered a brother would be capable of hurting him physically and emotionally. But after Mary's death, everything went to hell; John wanted to completely eliminate him from his life and with him, Rosie. He had a brief hope when he saw the video of Mary, but when he was underneath the man beating him in the morgue, that hope was reduced and then almost completely eliminated when it was in the hands of Culverton Smith, and that's when he realized that maybe, just maybe, John would quit.

He forgave him, Sherlock had no heart to leave one of the men who saw the best of him, and that, ridiculously, was what hurt the most, because that man who defended him, who took care of him in his illness and accepted him just as as it is, he no longer wanted him in his life.

He, Sherlock Holmes, whom everyone believed to be cold and emotionless, was changed for a brave little blond soldier.

_Look at the stars, John ..._

"Look at the stars, Sherlock," he whispered to himself.


	6. Against the tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John wants to improve, but first he must lick his wounds.

_"Are you okay?" He asks softly. His voice soft and calm now._

_Sherlock doesn't respond, instead sobbing._

_"Are you crying?" John's legs go weak._

_Sherlock looks up, not making eye contact, tears play with falling again. He stands up, brushes his hand across his face, and goes straight to the doctor's side._

John froze, his hand still suspended in the air and that uncontrollable anger now changed by the fear of losing the only person he still had. Remember the look in Sherlock's eyes, how bright they looked, the few tears that fell down his pale cheeks, the gleam of confidence and brilliance replaced by pain and fear.

_Sherlock is afraid of him ... no, that's impossible, Sherlock is not afraid of anything, is he?_

John lowers his hand and thinks of the injured human being, with whom he was so familiar, with whom he shared so much, think of how he could further harm that very special man who sacrificed so much for him.

John closes his eyes.

_"YOU ARE HURTING HIM!" The woman behind him yells, causing him to move away from the beaten body._

_He sees it, sees his best friend bleeding and crying, but he doesn't care, not anymore. Sherlock babbles, he affirms and thus, he sees something else in those eyes: guilt, deeper than his own ..._

Dazed, he opens his eyes and heads slowly toward Baker Street.

Upon arrival, he is greeted by a frowning Mrs. Hudson, she holds the little girl with blond curls in her arms, who upon seeing her father rushes imperiously towards him.

"Oh, John. I thought you and Sherlock would come back later, don't you think it's too early? ... Where's Sherlock? "

"Hello Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock went for a walk, said he needed to think. " _Or that's what you want to believe_. John lies picking up his daughter.

"Very well dear, I will prepare lunch for that boy to eat something, he needs to eat a little more, he lost a lot of weight since he was in the hospital..." The landlady's voice diminished little by little as she disappeared into her apartment.

John climbs the seventeen steps to 221B's living room, where he realizes that everything is different, _apparently Mrs. Hudson was busy tidying up and cleaning the house_ , he thinks to himself. He walks over to the Baby Jail and places a playful Rosie in it, then walks over to his chair and pulls out his phone, wondering if it's a good idea to write to his absent best friend.

_"Are you okay?" He asks softly. His voice soft and calm now._

_Sherlock doesn't respond, instead sobbing._

He does not understand why he has the instinct to hurt his life partner despite the fact that in the past he was the one who protected him from idiots, but what he does bear in mind is that for now he has to fix things with Sherlock.

He can't lose his best friend, he can't lose his _brother_.


	7. The dust settles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock returns to floor 221B ...

Sherlock put his phone in his pocket, walked to a bench, sat down, and lit a cigarette taking a deep breath of smoke. He no longer felt the anxiety of days ago, now he just felt numb. Before, when he had bad days, John would take it upon himself to help him cope, but now he only had himself.

_I was the one who provoked John, I was rude and he just reacted._

He knows that he has to go to his apartment since he spent more than six hours walking in the street without a fixed direction, he knows that John, maybe he feels guilty, he knows that he will forgive him but still, all this is much more distressing to himself, because no one knows if he will ever be safe with his army medic. But in the end, as always, he will return to lick his wounds, _because in the end it is all his fault._

His thoughts were interrupted by a phone call, he sighs and answers, it's his brother.

"Dear brother, I see you are not coming home yet," Mycroft says.

“I see you are still watching over me. I had to think, the case is difficult. " Sherlock answers

“… I see. In any case, I find it strange not to see you in the company of Dr. Watson. "

“John has a daughter to take care of. He has other concerns. "

“Little brother, you know you can trust me and let's just say I'm not stupid not to realize that your relationship with the doctor has been affected. It's a bit weird since after the events of… Sherrinford, John cared deeply for you so I can say that the ex-soldier still tends to take care of your well-being. "

Sherlock is silent and then sighs. "John is not the same as before."

"You need my help?" Mycroft asks softly.

"No I dont think so."

"Very good. Keep in mind that you can trust me for everything. " The Holmes brothers' relationship gradually improved after the events with Eurus, both brothers displaying a quiet concern for each other.

"I know," Sherlock whispered.

With that answer the older man hung up.

Sherlock got to his feet and stepped on his cigarette walking towards Baker Street with only one idea in mind, _to fix his friendship with John._

Caminó poco más de veinte minutos hasta que llegó a la puerta del 221B, silenciosamente entró y subió los diecisiete escalones. Al llegar a la sala de estar, se dio con la sorpresa de que el ex soldado estaba dormido en su silla con el teléfono caído en el pecho y roncando suavemente, Rosie dormida en su Baby Jail. Sin querer despertar al médico, pasa sutilmente para quitarse el abrigo y la bufanda, luego camina hacia la cocina maldiciéndose al pisar un tablón crujiente del piso despertando a John en el acto.

Instinctively the smaller man leaps to his feet and spins around, his eyes widening as he notices Sherlock standing in the kitchen doorway looking weary.

"... Sherlock ..." John mutters loud enough for the other man to hear.

"Hi John, sorry to wake you up. I'll be in my room. " Sherlock says tightly.

"No, God, no. Of course not ... can we talk? "

“There is nothing to talk about, John. Everything is fine, I was rude, I deserved it. " He said, getting ready to go to his room as soon as possible.

“Sherlock I behaved like an idiot, I don't know what happened to me, I just wanted, I just wanted ... I wanted to be in control of the situation but it seemed to get out of hand. Please understand me, I know you may not want to talk to me anymore, but I want you to know that I am really sorry. "

The detective turned pale and if possible, he looked much more tired.

“I promise I'll change, and no, it's not your fault, not at all. Sorry to scare you, or ... to be aggressive with you again. I promise you that from now on I will control myself ... "

As John spoke, the younger man began to get anxious, demonstrating to the light in the room, his little tics ... smooth simultaneous movements of his fingers or the stirring in his legs, little things that showed John that he was the only one causing that your friend is like this.

"John ... everything is fine," and so the detective disappears down the hall to his bedroom.

"No, nothing is right." John muttered to himself.

_Sherlock is afraid of me ..._

One day later, Lestrade calls Sherlock asking him how he was and what had happened that day, the young detective answered him curtly.

Greg was worried, he, the man who saw the video of the morgue, the one who saw John Watson take down a scared and shocked Sherlock, decided it was time to pay more attention to the actions of the little doctor and thus take the corresponding action.

Mycroft Holmes knew that something bad was growing between his little brother and the former soldier, something that distressed him, but for now there was nothing he could do, not until the moment was right.

John's resolution lasted a week….

**_To be continue..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we come to the end of my first fic.  
> Thank you so much for reading, it was a great start.
> 
> Remember never to lose hope.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic can be read as single but it would be better if you a tour of the world of Sgam76 to better understand the data.
> 
> I apologize for some flaws in my English, that is not my first language, so.
> 
> Sgam76, hope you like it.


End file.
